


forever is in your eyes

by nightwideopen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, OT5, Pack Dynamics, Pining, Soul Bond, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 07:26:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16113650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwideopen/pseuds/nightwideopen
Summary: But then Niall remembers that this is all he wants for Louis. He wants him to be this happy all the time. He wants Louis to stop fighting the inevitable, to stop causing himself unnecessary pain. He hates seeing Louis hurting and upset, always worrying.Sometimes, Niall swears he can feel his own heart aching for relief.





	forever is in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wear Your Fur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877423) by [dearmrsawyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmrsawyer/pseuds/dearmrsawyer). 



> Hiya! This was written for [Nouis Fest 2018](http://nouisfest2018.tumblr.com)! I had quite a bit of fun writing this, as hard as it was. Special thanks to Jamila for the werewolf Nouis inspo and Angela for the lovely early beta and to Steph being so encouraging as always. 
> 
> Title from What A Heavenly Way To Die by Troye Sivan!

It’s easy to lose yourself in New York. The city swallows you whole and tempts you to be a part of it. That’s why it’s lucky that they don’t live in the heart of it, opting for something as close to a forest as they can get while still residing at a reasonable distance from civilization. Even on the off chance that one of them wanders too far during a full moon, it still wouldn’t be far enough to be spotted or cause any real damage.

When the four of them first moved to New York from London, they all promised each other that they would stay true to their roots. For Louis and Zayn, this meant exaggerating their northern accents and always having more than enough tea in the cupboards. For Liam, it’s rugby on the TV and a full English _at least_ every Sunday. For Niall, it’s doing everything he can to forget where he came from. He’d lose his accent if he could. But he can’t, and won’t, mostly because of how his heart skips a beat when Louis tries to imitate it. 

He’s doing it now as they lie in the backyard, making Niall say _winter_ over and over again until it hardly sounds like a word. Louis can never curl his R’s enough to get it to sound Irish.

“You sound like a pirate,” Niall comments.

“That’s because you’re a terrible accent coach,” Louis complains.

“I can’t teach you something I never learned! It’s just a part of me. It’s like you teaching me how to…” He trails off, trying to think of something that doesn’t make him sound hopelessly smitten. That proves to be apparently impossible.

Louis’ lip curls in a cheeky snarl. Niall hates _, hates_ when he makes that face. 

“How to what? Go on,” he teases. 

“I dunno.” Niall sighs, stretching out on the grass until his limbs pop. He opts for something that’s not really an answer. “You’re inherently a lot of things.” He turns to look at the sky rather than Louis, whose face is becoming too cute for Niall to bear witness to. He’ll burst into flames, probably. “You couldn’t teach me how to be you.”

The sun has long set and it’s getting colder as the clouds slowly clear, but Niall likes the comfort of being just warm enough in a hoodie and a jacket. Plus, he wants to see the stars. Louis always makes fun of him for it, but for all the banter, he always joins Niall in finding the constellations even though he has no idea what he’s looking for.

“Right,” Louis says. He gets cut off by his own yawn. “Getting late, innit? We could probably catch ‘em tomorrow; don’t think they’re coming out tonight.”

Niall frowns. His watch reads a few minutes past midnight, but he’s working every night for the rest of the week. “You can go on, I’m gonna wait a little longer.”

Louis rolls over on the grass to grab Niall’s face between his dirt covered hands and plant a wet kiss on his forehead. Niall nearly gasps aloud at the abruptness of it. He manages to swallow it, but if were any lighter outside the blood in his cheeks might give him away.

“G’night, Nialler.”

Niall tries not to sound breathless when he says, “Night, Louis.” But the racing of his heart leaves him winded. 

When Louis slams the sliding door behind him, Niall exhales in a loud rush and whispers to himself, “What the fuck?”

 

Niall wakes up to a blanket being draped over him. His clothes are soaked through and his teeth are chattering. He must’ve fallen asleep on the grass. The sky is tinted pink with the sunrise, cloudless and too bright for his tired eyes. He doesn’t open them, but he can tell by the heavy presence (and the cigarette smoke creeping up his nose) that it’s Zayn settling into the grass beside him.

“So,” Zayn muses, “How long have you been in love with Louis?”

Niall’s eyes shoot open and he immediately regrets it, hissing as he squeezes his eyes shut again.

“What?! Are you mad? In love with L–” Niall’s voice reaches an embarrassing pitch. Then he realizes there’s no use in denying it. “Yeah, alright. I dunno, a while. I didn’t catch on until recently though.”

Zayn chuckles softly. He knows Niall better than anyone. “That bad, eh? Haven’t seen you this smitten since–”

“Yeah. I know. But…”

Zayn catches his eye with a curious expression. “But?”

The silence hangs heavy while Niall thinks on it. It’s not just that he loves Louis – because he _does_ , so much – it’s that it feels like something more. It runs deeper than their friendship; than Niall’s unconditional loyalty. Niall wants only happiness for Louis, wants to protect him from all the shit that he knows the world has to offer. It breaks Niall’s heart when Louis is in pain, so much so that it’s almost like he’s feeling it for himself. He feels everything so much more than the pack bond that they all share. It’s not the same as Zayn’s alpha senses being able to tap into Niall’s emotions, or Liam being able to tell where he is simply by feeling for him. Niall experiences it on another level, something not quite instinctual but certainly involuntary. It scares him a bit that he can’t place it. He has a hunch, but he so badly wants to be wrong.

“It’s more than that. It feels like… more. Or maybe it’s something different and I’m mistaking it for love? I don’t know.”

“You do know. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

Niall presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to stave off what feels like the beginning of a headache. What could he possibly be getting a headache from?

“I can feel what he’s feeling,” Niall says. “It kills me when he’s upset. I want to keep him safe. I want him to be happy. I can feel how miserable he is with all of this and I want to fix it but I can’t. He doesn’t deserve it.” He takes a deep breath, unsure of how to keep his thoughts in order. “I go mad whenever he comes close to me. Butterflies and all that shit. But everything’s all jumbled up because I don’t know what’s me actually wanting to _be_ with him and what’s me just wanting him to be okay.” Tears poke at the backs of his eyes. “D’you think he feels the same?”

Zayn stubs out his cigarette in the grass, pensive as he billows out the last of the smoke.

“Dunno. You should talk to him though. Or have a night just the two of you, see what happens.” Zayn shrugs. “Do what feels right, go from there.”

That’s so spectacularly unhelpful that Niall doesn’t even know where to begin. But Zayn is rising to his feet and ruffling Niall’s hair in a silent farewell before Niall can even open his mouth to complain.

—

Niall finds it awfully cheesy to be feeling so out of sorts on the days leading up to Halloween. It’s a full moon, sure, but that happens every 20 years or so and it’s never felt like anything other than a regular full moon. His insides are all squirmy, like they were when he was first turned. Back then he could feel the moon’s pull more intensely than he remembers feeling it in recent years. Still, centuries later, he’ll never forget the way he felt the first time because of how profound its depth was.

Even just sitting on the sofa watching _Beetlejuice_ with Liam while Louis and Zayn get changed is leaving a weird tingling in his fingers and toes. He starts to fidget as it creeps up his limbs. 

“Are you sure we should go out tonight? Y’know with the moon and all?”

Liam’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Yeah? It’s only the first night of the phase. Are you feeling alright? You’ve been weird and jittery all day.”

Niall shrugs. He swings his legs over the arm of the couch so that his head is in Liam’s lap. His costume is starting to bother him. In hindsight, Niall probably shouldn’t have chosen Black Panther; he really doesn’t have the patience for this.

“Just feel off, dunno what it is. I think–”

Louis comes thundering down the stairs then, more excited than Niall has seen him in a while. He’s decked out in the most authentic Spiderman costume that they could get their hands on – and that Zayn’s money could buy. He propels himself over the back of the sofa in a display of athleticism and pure joy, dropping himself directly onto Niall’s lap. Niall feels a twinge in his knees. They’re far more durable than they were when he was human, but he still feels the ghost of that pain sometimes.

“Oi!” Niall shouts. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Louis messes up Niall’s hair. “Nah.” He bares his teeth in a grin. “Just have a good feeling about tonight.”

 

Niall used to think that by the time he was at least fifty years old that he’d get a grasp on the whole _being alive_ thing. But at two hundred and six he still accidentally puts his shirts on inside out, burns his toast and loses his keys. All of his clumsy human tendencies have stayed with him through the years, as well as all of his very human thoughts, flaws, and emotions. Being a werewolf hasn’t done much except exacerbate all of that.

Niall is going to drink extra tonight, hoping that his horribly resistant body will let him get even a little bit tipsy. It seems the older he gets, the more tolerant to alcohol he becomes. He misses the feeling of being slightly buzzed more than anything. Something to take the edge off. 

Tonight that edge is Louis. Niall is extra-attuned to every move he makes, on top of his already weird nerves. It’s maddening, because every time Niall takes his eyes off of him he can still feel him. It turns into an itch that he can’t scratch, and he _has to_ find Louis with his eyes again. Is this what Zayn feels like all the time? Niall doesn’t know how he does it. The entire cab ride into Manhattan finds their eyes meeting more than once, Louis smirking in response to the side glances Niall is giving him. Their knees keep knocking together in some childlike fantasy way that sends sparks up Niall’s leg every time. He tries to convince himself it’s his fucked up knee, feeling things that aren’t there like it always does.

It’s easy to cling to Louis’ side when they first arrive together, all trying to fit through the door at once. They beeline for the first round booth in sight and fill up the middle, Liam and Zayn squishing Louis and Niall between them. Zayn winks at Niall from Louis’ other side when Louis throws an arm around Niall’s shoulders. It’s awful.

“We’re the glue holding this party together here, eh?”

It makes no sense but it’s okay because apparently Niall has a thing for the way Louis’ hair looks after he’s pulled his mask off his head to shout in Niall’s ear. It’s starting to grow out again, but not enough that Louis has to style it, and that alone has been driving Niall mad for weeks. They can all probably see his mouth falling open and his laugh falling flat. He can’t stop staring at Louis’ mouth.

“Drinks?” Zayn announces. Bless him. “Come with me, Lou.”

“Yeah, alright,” Louis mutters.

When Louis falls out of Niall’s line of sight and disappears into the crowd, Niall turns back to Liam to find him smirking. Apparently Niall isn’t in on the joke.

“What are you all smug about?”

“Nothing.” Liam shrugs, flicks a bit of food off the table. “Just how arse over tits you are for him.” 

Niall sputters several times before he can find his bearings and feign composer. “You can fuck right off,” he tells Liam. 

If Liam can tell, then it can probably be seen from space. Niall fancies Louis and everyone knows it. He may as well get it tattooed on his forehead in the same fucking font as Louis’ chest piece tattoo. _Gone for Louis Tomlinson,_ it could say. Nice and big so the aliens can know they were right.

Niall punches Liam in the chest. It’s not very hard, because he’s not very strong, and Liam’s chest is like a brick wall. Liam still yelps, attempting to defend himself with his plastic Mjolnir.

“Don’t fucking tell him, alright?” 

”What?” Liam’s face scrunches up and his eyes go soft. “Of course not, that’s not my place. Just taking the piss, Nialler, calm down.” There’s a very long awkward pause. “Christ, it must be serious, then.”

All the air in Niall’s lungs feels trapped there. 

“Dunno,” he says. “I think–” Niall shakes his head. He doesn’t want to say it out loud. It’s too much, it’s too ridiculous. He doesn’t want to jinx it.

“Hey.” Liam scoots closer and nudges Niall with his elbow. “You can tell me, it’s alright.”

Louis and Zayn return with their drinks, then, and he’s able to breathe for a few moments before Louis presses himself up against Niall’s side again.

“Scoot over, Payno, you’re taking up the whole booth. Selfish wanker.”

They toast to Liam being a selfish wanker and Niall chugs his pint, wishing it was something stronger.

 

After a while, Louis inevitably gets bored of sitting and wants to show off his costume to attract as much attention as possible. He vanishes into the crowd and Niall’s amygdala starts to itch.

Louis is leaning on the bar when Niall spots him again an hour later, smirking like the little shit that he is. Niall has known Louis long enough to be able to tell when he’s up to something. That glint in his eye is visible from across the room even in the low light of the pub. Apparently cheap alcohol and shit food isn’t enough to keep him from causing trouble. 

Niall watches him for a few minutes, taking moderate sips from his own pint. Louis is halfway to plastered, sloshing his drink all over his knuckles to the point where it’s dripping onto his trainers that he insisted on wearing over his costume. They’re brand new, cost $600 – Niall would know, he bought them for him. They were white when Niall bundled them up nice and placed them in an inconspicuous box that he wrapped with Avengers paper. He’d put a bow on it and everything before sliding the gift under the Christmas tree in their living room. Louis had giggled happily when he pulled them out of the box before kissing Niall’s forehead dramatically. 

After those few minutes of watching, Niall sees Louis fix himself a target. He’s a good looking bloke, tall and lanky and dressed as what Niall can only assume is Clark Kent; the epitome of Louis’ type. But after Niall watches Louis’ gaze shift from hungry to playful, it becomes abundantly clear then that Louis isn’t planning on bringing someone home to annoy the lads. He wants to play a joke on an unsuspecting human. Niall is sure that his intentions aren’t malicious, but with Louis sometimes things just _happen_. 

Niall’s feet move at the same time as Louis’. He can’t find Zayn in his periphery, but he can smell him, close and safe even through the crowded pub. Louis disappears into the mass of bodies and Niall whimpers quietly, slightly frantic. He bumps into Zayn, his instincts finding his alpha before his senses do.

“Zayn.”

“Hey.” Zayn was talking to someone, Niall thinks, but they’re gone now. “Niall, what’s wrong?”

Niall looks down at his drink, feeling like he’s betraying Louis by all but snitching on him. They all know Louis is Zayn’s favorite, but Zayn is also the only one that Louis listens to.

“Niall.” Zayn uses his stern voice, the one he only uses when Niall is feeling exactly like this. Zayn can tell, can probably smell it on him. “Tell me, it’s alright.”

“Louis’s gone off. He had that look. He was by himself, I dunno what he’s gonna do. Went to talk to some tall bloke in a red shirt. Can you just check on him? I don’t want–”

When Niall looks back up, Zayn’s expression has softened considerably. He brushes Niall’s fallen hair from his forehead.

“It’s okay. He’s a right little shit, isn’t he? I’ll go find him, chill out, yeah? Get another drink.”

Niall nods. Louis is going to be the death of him.

He takes Zayn’s advice, slides into a booth with a full pint. He still feels bad, always having to put an end to Louis’ mischief. But the last time Louis was _just going to have a little fun_ and _pull a harmless prank_ they ended up with Liam. 

A crash sounds on the other end of the bar.

No one screams, and the music is still nothing but a steady thump in Niall’s head. But his ears prick up, and he _knows_ that it has something to do with Louis. 

Before Niall can move, though, Liam appears, his face panicked and breath harsh. He grabs Niall by the wrist.

“We’ve got to go!” he shouts over the pulsing bass. Niall just stares. Liam tugs him out of the booth. “We’ve got to _go!_ ”

Niall trips over his own and Liam’s feet alike as they stumble through the crowd and out the door. The nighttime autumn air wraps around Niall in a cold, windy blanket and he’s shivering in seconds. 

“Where’s Louis?” Niall demands. When Liam doesn’t answer he pinches him, gritting his teeth. “ _Where’s Louis?”_

“Ow! For God’s sake, I don’t know!”

Zayn bursts through the pub door, the empty sidewalk getting louder before falling silent again. The three of them share a panicked look. Zayn seems off, confused and unsure of what to do. 

A rush of adrenaline crashes through Niall, sending his feet stumbling in a direction that he knows he should follow. So he does, he takes off running, and makes it to near the end of the street until his body stops feeling like a bomb about to go off. He’s stopped in front of an alley, Zayn and Liam’s footsteps slowing behind him, and through the chattering of his teeth, he can hear Louis growling. 

It’s one of those involuntary ones, and with the full moon it’s not surprising. Niall can tell that he’s trying to hold it in, whimpers falling out of his mouth along with the angry sounds being ripped from him. Louis is still so young, still so out of control of the animal inside of him and Niall’s heart aches with the knowledge that he can’t do anything to help. They’ve all been through it; the reckless decisions, the disastrous impulses, the battle between intentional and instinct. It’s a matter of learning, something that Louis has always been reluctant to do. He just keeps prolonging his own pain.

Louis is crouched against the brick wall of the alley, curled up on himself and head hung low. He’s trying to disappear, trying to submit to his alpha who’s inching closer to him. With every bit that Zayn moves closer, the more agitated Louis becomes. 

“Zayn?” Liam tries to warn. “Maybe give him a moment, yeah?”

Zayn shoots him a glare, making Niall incredibly glad that it wasn’t him that said something. 

“He’s fine.” He turns his attention back to Louis. “Lou, it’s alright. We’ve got to get home, come on.”

“Hurts,” Louis says, barely a whisper. He sounds more human now, more like he’s actually crying.

“I know.” Zayn closes the distance between them, gestures for Liam to help him. “Up you get, it’s freezing. It’s time to go, alright? It’s fine, it’s not your fault, okay?”

Niall can see Louis tense up the moment Liam touches him, relaxing when Zayn takes his hand in his. The four of them stumble into a cab only a few minutes later, tangled up in each other.

—

“Alright, Niall?” Louis grabs a slice of bacon from Liam’s plate before sliding into his place at the table. “Payno?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, fine. Get your own breakfast, would you?”

Louis throws his whole upper body onto the table, groaning theatrically. Niall fixes him a plate.

“Here,” he says. “Don’t need you starving yourself ‘cos you’re too lazy. Not tonight.”

A bit of scrambled egg hits Niall in the face the moment he sits back down.

“No need to be so dramatic about it. Just another full moon. You know, the fucking usual,” Louis grumbles.

Louis often says that he feels like it’s _always_ _a full fucking moon_ , but that’s probably because of how much he dreads it. Niall feels as though the full moon doesn’t come around often enough. 

“Lou,” Liam sighs, “You know the more you repress it the harder it’s gonna be. I wish you’d see that it’s not all bad.”

“Not all bad?!” Louis exclaims through a mouthful of bacon. “Liam, it’s a curse. Literally. A curse. Have you missed that part? The part where we’ve quite _literally_ been bound by magic to live forever in bodies that completely change against our will? Christ.”

Liam scoffs. “Yeah, I do, thanks to you.”

“Hey!” Niall exclaims. That’s not fair and Liam knows it.

Louis grabs his plate and stomps off. They’ve had this conversation, this _argument_ , a million times in the last eight years. But each year, as Louis’ family grow older and he doesn’t age a day, it gets harder. Louis doesn’t ever want to admit it, but Niall knows that’s the reason. They all do.

Zayn slides into his seat at the head of the table, rubbing his face. He drops his hands onto the table after a moment. Niall and Liam stay silent as Zayn sighs.

“What have I said about inciting tantrums before noon?”

Niall stays silent when Liam insists that Louis started it.

 

This full moon is going to be a hard one for Louis, Niall can already tell. The first two days of the phase have already had him on edge, snippy and irritable. By the time the sun starts to set and they’re all ready to shift for the night, Louis is curled up on the couch, whimpering because of his refusal to submit to the change. He’s more stubborn now than he was last month, gritting his teeth and trying to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. Eight years on and he still won’t learn how to make the change voluntarily, letting it build up until he’s turned against his will. Even Liam, who was turned only three years after Louis, has already gotten a handle on how to make life as a wolf as painless as possible. Niall would even go as far to say that he _enjoys_ it.

They can all hear it when the first bone snaps, breaking and reshaping itself. The sound echoes in the quiet house, nothing but the muffled din of crickets from the backyard to accompany it. Louis tries not to cry out, retracts his body inward in an attempt to appear smaller; disappear, even. He knows they’re watching him. They have to look out for him, and they always wait. It’s painful to watch, and it’s awkward and uncomfortable, the tension always enough to make Niall’s skin crawl beneath his jumper. Not to mention the way he can’t quite literally _feel_ the echoes of each bone breaking. He hates this, wishes that Louis would give up and learn to live with how things are. 

But Louis has never been one to give up, not in all the time that Niall has known him. Louis once built an entire treehouse because Zayn said he didn’t have one as a kid. It took him two months, and it came crashing down twice, but he did it.

Louis’ cries start to get louder, uncontrollable. Niall has to look away, like always. It never gets any easier to watch; it reminds him of his own first few shifts, when everything was an open wound and his whole being rang of _panicpanicpanic_. 

Niall can feel his own senses sharpening under the weight of the moon. He can hear the alpha tone of Zayn’s voice more distinctly than before. Zayn is using it to comfort Louis, but it serves its purpose twofold and washes over Niall, helping him breathe easier.

He doesn’t look again until the human whimpering devolves into a more canine sound. Louis is still crying, still curled up on the couch with Zayn murmuring to him. But now Zayn is stroking fur, and Louis’ ears are pressed flat against his head, tail hitting leather with hard smacks.

“Alright lads,” Zayn says. “He’s okay. Time to go.”

As they shed their clothes and shift into their own wolf forms by Zayn’s orders, Niall wishes – not for the first time – that Louis would appreciate the beauty of this double life. Louis’ wolf is stunning, tall and sleek with shiny black fur that gets lost in the darkness of the woods. He’s graceful on his feet in a way that he probably doesn’t mean to be, and when he loses himself to the transformation and to the moon, his wolf is grateful for the freedom, pulling him every which way. In a way, this carefree version of Louis upsets Niall. It’s something that could easily bleed into the human portion of himself if he let it. It’s not unlike his human self, playful and loud, yapping at the lot of them and nipping at their feet so they’ll chase him. Lost in his instincts like this he doesn’t have to worry about anything, barely remembering the night before when they all wake up in a puppy pile on the grass the next morning.

As soon as they make it past the tree line, Louis slips on wet leaves. He tumbled into the dirt, letting out a startled yelp. The three of them are by his side almost immediately, nosing at him as he turns over onto his back. Even as he bounces onto his feet and lunges into a playful position, tail high in the air, Niall knows that Louis would never believe them if they told him exactly how much of an omega he really is.

Zayn gives chase when Louis nips at his snout and runs off. It’s a devastatingly familiar sight that makes Niall forget about everything else. Zayn’s white fur shimmers in direct contrast to the way Louis’ blends into the night, his golden eyes reflecting the light of moon every time he turns Niall’s way. Liam moves to stand beside Niall, resting his head on top of Niall’s as they watch their alpha and omega play in the clearing they’ve reached. After a few minutes, Louis lets Zayn catch him and tackle him into the grass.

But then Niall remembers that this is all he wants for Louis. He wants him to be this happy all the time. He wants Louis to stop fighting the inevitable, to stop causing himself unnecessary pain. He hates seeing Louis hurting and upset, always worrying. 

Sometimes, Niall swears he can feel his own heart aching for relief.

—

Two days after their shift night finds Louis climbing into Niall’s bed at 5AM. The full moon is still wearing off of them; Louis always gets clingy after the shift back. But this usually means that Niall and Liam find him on the couch draped over Zayn’s body, or that he crawls in between them when they’re watching a movie. Niall’s never been woken up by Louis curling up into his side under the duvet, nose pressed to the cotton of Niall’s sleep shirt. He’s trembling. Niall doesn’t understand why.

“Louis?” His voice gives out halfway through with sleep. “Lou? What’re you doing?”

Louis sniffles, head still under the blanket. “S-sorry. Zayn’s room’s locked. Di’n’t wanna be alone.” 

Niall tries to stay as still as possible, in case Louis realizes what he’s doing – whose bed he’s tucked into– and runs off. “It’s alright,” he says carefully. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.” Louis shakes his head like he’s trying to convince himself as well. “Just miss them.” 

“That’s still something to talk about,” Niall encourages. It’s never wise to let Louis bottle things up. He’s a dam waiting to break, always. Niall can feel the tension building up between them merely from Louis thinking about how he’s probably not seeing his family any time soon. “When was the last time you saw them?”

A tiny growl vibrates in Louis’ throat, but it tapers off into a whimper. 

“Not since Lottie’s birthday,” Louis mumbles. Tears threatening to spill line the edges of his words. “I just hope I can make it for Christmas. I want to get the twins them light up trainers that they won’t shut up about. I want to see them happy, that’s all.”

Niall’s own thoughts from the other night being echoed by Louis is oddly daunting.

Louis burrows in closer to Niall, and Niall takes his chance to secure his arm around Louis in a way that’s comfortable. He pulls Louis close, taps at the knobs of his spine like keys on a piano. His entire being commiserates with Louis and all that he’s lost and is losing and will lose. It’s not fair. As much as he loves Louis, and having him around, and having him part of the little family they built for themselves, Niall wishes there was a way to give Louis back to the family he yearns for. It’s what he’s known his whole life, and he loves them more than Niall can comprehend. It’s more than what he has with the boys, it’s _blood_. It’s true unchosen family that Louis would do anything for, that he doesn’t want to lose; stolen from him in a way that Niall – who ran from home the moment that it was feasible – could never understand.

“You’re a good brother,” Niall says firmly. “And you’re an amazing son, and a wonderful person and I wish things were different for your sake. I know you hate all of this and I’m sorry that it happened the way it did, but just know that me and the lads love you. We want that for you too– to be happy.”

“Well shit, Niall.” Louis lets out a teary laugh, finally emerging from underneath the duvet. The sun’s starting to come up and that pre-dawn light looks good on him, puffy eyes and all. “You didn’t have to go and make me cry.”

Niall’s heart flutters in the worst way. He brushes a thumb underneath Louis’ eye. He’s gone for this boy and he doesn’t know how it happened.

“We should get back to sleep. S’almost morning.”

“Yeah.” Louis huffs. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Louis starts to untangle himself from the blankets, but before he can finish Niall hears himself say, “Stay.” His hand is wrapped around Louis’ wrist. He doesn’t know how it got there. Louis quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah? Got somethin’ to tell me Nialler?” 

Niall knows he’s only teasing but his gut reaction is to shake his head frantically. His face feels _hot_ and he doesn’t know how to play it off. Niall’s brain has an alarm going off that says _HE’S ONTO US!_

“No,” Niall squeaks. “Just stay. It’s fine.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stay.” Louis settles back into the bed, his movements hesitant. “Have you actually got something to tell me, though?”

In that moment, Niall finds himself wishing he was able to lie to Louis. He’s never been good at lying to the people he loves. His mother used to be able to weasel the truth out of him with one hard look, his first girlfriend knew every present she was going to get for Christmas before Niall had even wrapped them. Louis knows that Niall is a terrible liar, knows he has a secret, and knows that the smirk on his face is going to rip it out of Niall with all the force of a skilled fisherman.

And maybe, just maybe, this is what all his anxiety has been warn him of.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I do, actually.”

It feels weirdly relieving to admit, somewhere underneath all of the stomach churning panic. But this is what it’s all been leading up to, he thinks. All the pining and the confusion and the half baked theories. He should tell Louis how he feels, find out how Louis feels. If Louis doesn’t feel the same then he can finally move on from this, start to get over it. And if Louis does feel the same… Maybe Niall shouldn’t get ahead of himself. One step at a time.

“Well,” Louis sits up, criss crosses his legs and puts all of his attention on Niall, “Go on then, I’m all ears.”

Niall might throw up. “You don’t have to stare at me like that.”

“Yes I do. I need you to know that I’m listening.”

And that’s a lot to take in. Louis’ undivided attention is a rarity that Niall isn’t often on the receiving end on. The only time Louis pays full mind to anything is when he’s binging a crime drama on Netflix or eavesdropping on Zayn singing in his room. But right now he has the same look that he gets when he’s Facetiming his sisters and they’re going on about their latest makeup haul or whatever funny thing the youngest twins have done. It takes something important to get Louis, the human tornado, to stop for a moment and really listen. 

That’s what makes this all the more terrifying.

“I… um–” Niall sits up and clears his throat, pulling the blankets as far up as he can with Louis sitting on them. “You know I love you, yeah? And that you’re my best mate.” He waits for Louis to nod. “Right, well, lately I’ve been, um. Just really like… aware? Of you, I mean. Like I know the pack bond makes us all like, close, and really connected but– It’s just been a lot. Like I can feel you all the time. And what you’re feeling. This sounds mad, but it’s made me feel differently about you and…?”

Niall trails off, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on where he’s tugging at a loose thread in the duvet. He’s going to ruin the stitching it if he keeps it up. He just doesn’t know what else to say, how to make what he’s feeling sound anything other than desperate and pathetic. Louis staring at him in utter silence is making this so much worse.

“Can you say something? You’re freaking me out.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know? Tease me, tell me I’m being stupid. Ask me what the fuck I’m talking about and tell me that there’s no way that I’m in love with you.”

Niall’s never been very good at this. And as he watches Louis’ mouth fall open, he realizes that he’s really _bad_ at this.

“You what?”

Niall scrubs at his face. “Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t want you to–”

“Niall,” Louis says flatly. He sounds so serious that Niall has to look up. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare.” He sighs. “There’s more though, right? I can hear it in your voice, that’s not just it.”

“It’s– Yeah.” 

He wants to look away. He wants to run and hide forever and never have to have this conversation. But the way Louis is looking at him, so open and earnest like he wants to hear what Niall has to say, it keeps him there. Louis hasn’t gotten upset, or angry or confused. He hasn’t told Niall to fuck off and that makes a little bit of hope bloom in Niall. Maybe, just _maybe_.

“Like I said, it’s more than that.” Niall can hear the way his own voice shakes. “I can feel what you feel. Every time we’re apart it’s terrible. During the moon it was awful, I didn’t wanna be away from you. I think… fuck, it sounds ridiculous. I think you’re my mate? Not like friends mates, proper mates, soul bonded or some shite. I don’t know how it happened and I don’t really know a lot about it. Obviously it might be one sided, ‘cos you seem fine. But it’s been driving me mad for so long and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by acting on it. So we can just pretend this didn’t happen if it’s too weird. I don’t want to lose you, Lou, it’s–”

Niall isn’t quite finished talking when Louis surges forward while muttering, “You fucking idiot.” Through his own rambling he hears it and then suddenly has Louis’ lips on his. They’re gone as quickly as they came and Niall doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to _do_ except freeze up.

“Sorry. You were rambling. I know you do that when you’re nervous but you don’t have to be. You haven’t scared me off or ruined anything.” Louis takes one of Niall’s hands in both of his to get Niall to stop picking at the skin on his fingers. “I’ve tried not to let it… show. For the same reasons, believe it or not.” He laughs carefully, like he’s trying not to spoil the moment. “I was trying to convince myself that it wasn’t what I thought it was. I acted like everything was the same between us ‘cos I didn’t wanna give myself away in case it was just me. You’re so fucking brave for this, you know that? I never would’ve have the guts– I love you too, Nialler. And you’re not gonna lose me. To be honest, I couldn’t think of a better person to be my soulmate than my best mate.”

“I thought Zayn was your–”

“Hey! I can have more than one best mate. But it doesn’t matter. You’re so much more than that. You’re my favorite person on this stupid fucking planet and you make all this werewolf shite less terrible.” Louis takes Niall’s face in his hands and smacks a loud kiss to his forehead. “Just wish we’d figured this out a long time ago. Maybe I wouldn’t have been such a dickhead.”

“Better late than never,” Niall says. 

He’s unable to fight the smile that’s forced itself onto his face. He can’t believe his luck, he really can’t. He gets to have Louis, this wonderful and brilliantly selfless genius boy for his own. That’s more than he could’ve asked for from putting his heart on the line.

Louis kisses him again, and again after that. He keeps kissing Niall until the sun is up and they fall back to sleep. When Liam and Zayn come barging in some hours later, finding them tangled up in each other and shaking them awake, Louis kisses him then, too. 

He hopes that Louis feels the same lightness in his chest, the relief of getting something so amazing that he can’t quite believe that it’s real just yet. If he doesn’t, Niall swears that the boy across from him that’s throwing bits of bacon at Liam will get all the happiness he deserves. Niall will personally see to that himself.

Later, when the effects of the full moon have worn off completely, but Louis’ hand is still in Niall’s, he tells him so.

“You know I just want you to be happy, yeah? I hope that I can make you happy ‘cos that’s what you do for me. Everyday. You make me so stupidly fucking happy.”

“ _Stupidly fucking happy_ ,” Louis repeats in an poor imitation of Niall's accent.

Niall laughs. “You’re never going to get that quite right.”

Louis shrugs, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’ve got forever to try.”


End file.
